From Love comes Hate
by DerekShepherd
Summary: SM1 moviebased. Harry's always had a strained relationship with his father, Norman Osborn. With schools out, will things improve, or will the tension increase?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:**

**Timeline: SM1**

**Huge weakness for Harry/Norman fics, I liked the complexiety and anguish of their strained relationship. As always please review, and please don't sue!**

Norman Osborn impatiently tapped his fingers on the side of his lavish, mahogany desk. He was getting increasingly annoyed, he was on hold. "On hold!?! My own goddamn company put ME on HOLD?!?" He shouted into the phone, all his patience exhausted.

If anyone had heard, they didn't rectify the problem. Norman felt close to throwing the phone angrily across the room, if he was kept waiting any longer. He hung up, annoyed, and redialed Dr. Stromm, the scientist he'd put in charge of special projects. The phone rang, and rang. "Stromm, you son of a bitch! Pick up the DAMN phone NOW!!!"

Harry heard the shouting in the other room, whenever his dad was getting closer to closing a business deal, he grew volatile. Recently it'd been magnified.

Harry hesitantly moved closer to his father's half open door. The shouting had died down, and Harry was momentarily relieved.

"Dad?" Harry cautiously opened the door, catching a glimpse of his father's disheveled hair. He'd probally been up late again, rattling off figures, and molecular crap. Harry sighed, and tried again. "Dad?"

Norman Osborn swiveled around, anger clouding his face. Harry took a step back, almost tripping over the Persian rug. "Harry, why aren't you in school?!" Harry began to open his mouth, but his father continued. "You're old enough to remember. Why the hell aren't you at school?! Answer me!"

_I would if you let me._

Harry looked away from his father's penetrating ice blue gaze. "Schools are out. Remember Dad?" Norman met his gaze, and seemed lost in thought. "Are you okay? I heard"-

Norman had already turned away, punching in the numbers of one of OsCorp's head officials. He glanced over his shoulder, as if dismissing Harry. Harry didn't get the hint, he stood in the doorway, watching his father.

"Finally! Where the hell were you?! I called and called! What did they say?" Norman impatiently ran a hand through his auburn hair.

_The only thing we have in common._

Recently, Harry'd spent most of his time with Peter, or MJ. Now that school's were out, his father found other things to berate him about. He didn't study hard enough, Peter was still studying in the summer.

_Peter, peter, peter. It's always about you. _

Harry leaned up against the wall, listening to his father negotiating with someone. His father loved work. Absolutely adored it, and hated it. Harry hated the fact it pulled him away from him. He was never home, and if he was? Locked in his elaborate study.

Norman Osborn heard something, he swiveled around, noticed Harry still in the doorway. He waved an impatient hand. Harry came closer, misinterpreting his father's gesture. Norman rolled his eyes. Why was his son so stupid?!

Harry searched his formidable father's eyes. "Dad?" Norman felt anger growing again. He covered the phone with one hand. "Get out. Leave." Harry felt himself get up, and gently close the door behind him.

Norman continued, annoyed that Harry would probably start crying. _He's too sensitive. _"What did you say, meeting at?"-

Harry blocked out the sound of his father's voice, and heard the click of the doorknob. He turned around, slightly surprised. His father hadn't come out, he'd locked it. Harry sighed, trying to block out the coldness in his father's eyes as he'd dismissed him abruptly.

_He's busy, making money, financing projects. I shouldn't expect anything._

Even the rationalization in Harry's mind sounded pathetic. His father never cut Peter off in mid sentence. He actually paid attention, and shut off his phone.

Harry collapsed into the chair, feeling alone. He wished school would start, at least his dad dropped him off, even if he did have to endure the taunts.

In his study, Norman Osborn smiled, so far, everyone was reacting well to his new project. If only it stayed that way…


	2. Chapter 2

The house was silent, the night visible through the windows. Harry knew he should eat, but he didn't feel hungry. Another lonely, silent night. A large table, an empty seat. A reminder of what wouldn't happen. Couldn't happen.

Harry reached for the phone, but hesitated. He could call Peter, but he'd probably be studying. Harry didn't really feel in the mood for another monologue about his brilliant scientist father.

_Who else?_

The silence was deafening, the large penthouse suddenly constricting. Harry reached for the phone, punching in MJ's cell phone number.

_Please pick up, please pick up._

Harry was about to hang up dejectedly when the muffled sound of her voice filled the other end. "MJ? It's Harry." "Hey." Harry stared at the picture of his father, and quickly looked away.

"I was hoping you'd go out to dinner with me tonight. I'll get reservations, it'll be fun." Harry winced, hoping MJ hadn't heard the whining in his voice.

_Say yes, say yes._

Harry heard the rustle of papers on the other side. "Well? MJ?" "What? Uh…" Harry looked up at the ceiling, sighing.

_Not another lame excuse, 'too busy' or 'tired'._

"I don't know, Harry. I'm really tired." "Tired?! How can you be tired?! What did you do all day anyway?" All the anger from his father's dismissive brush off came out. Harry immediately regretted it, nothing but silence.

Cold, hard silence.

"Some of us actually have to WORK, Harry Osborn!" Harry felt like he'd been hit, the edge in her voice matching his own.

_I deserve it._

"That's right. I actually WORK. Do you know what that is, Harry?!" Harry felt anger, rising inside. "Oh? And WHERE do you work? At some sleazy diner? Some burger joint, hole- in- the wall?"

_Damn._

"Don't call me again, go buy someone else." The words stung, a perfect retort to his. Harry threw the phone against the wall, collapsing into a chair.

_Now I don't even have MJ._

Harry moved to the liquor cabinet, deftly unlocking it. His father stored everything in there, thinking Harry would never use it. Or maybe he didn't care. The thought depressed Harry even more.

Harry took a swig out of the scotch decanter, feeling it burn his empty stomach. He took another swig, feeling his head fog. Another and another, he drained the decanter. All feeling left his body, except the burn of the heavy liquid.

He couldn't even think, his hand dropping the glass decanter unto the floor, glass shattering on impact. His knees gave out, dropping upon the glass remains of the decanter.

Harry didn't even feel the shards cutting, scraping into his skin. All he knew was that the guilt and anger had stopped, his mind numb. He heard the click of the door, and closed his eyes, if this was death, it was hazy.

"Harry? Harry! HARRY!"

He felt the hands of someone shaking him, fiercely. Lifting him from the floor; and the glass embedded into his now scarlet skin. Hands weakly moving him unto the couch, his blood staining the fabric.

Harry opening his eyes, meeting the eyes of his father…

**A/N: A darker chapter, hope no one is offended or anything. Thanks for all the reviews, there will be more!**


	3. Chapter 3

Harry awoke in the hospital, the cold, stark, sterile walls unfamiliar. His mind felt- cloudy? Hazy? What had happened?

_I called MJ…_

Harry reached to get up, pain shooting up his back and neck. He pulled himself to an upright position, ignoring the shattering pain.

_She'll never speak to me again, she'll go to Peter. Why am I here? _

The silence. The burning sensation. The glass. And-

_The cold, disapproving, disappointed eyes. Dad._

The one person Harry longed to please! To prove he wasn't weak. To earn his approval.

_No chance of that now…_

Norman had found his son collapsed on the floor, the liquor cabinet open, the door gently swinging. The motionless body of Harry, the blood spilling all over his Persian rug…

_Damn. I thought he was old enough to take care of himself. He should know better, what the hell was he thinking?!_

Norman glanced at the clock in the hospital. Obviously, he'd sent Harry to New York's finest. Still- he was running late. The board would be expecting him. A vacant chair meant a disinterested CEO.

_Harry better not screw himself up again, I can't afford to lose this project. Its bad enough I'm already running fifteen minutes late. _

Norman sighed, silencing his phone. He didn't have to stay, but he felt remotely responsible for this, but for now, anger at Harry dominated everything else.

_What will they think? The papers can't run this story. _

Norman angrily tapped his fingers against the countertop. He could see it now, in one of those gossip rags. Like the Daily Bugle.

_CEO Norman Osborn- horrible father, closet drunk._

Norman felt his fists clenching, where the hell were the nurses or staff? If he HAD to stay, he wouldn't want to be without internet access. He could manage the paperwork here. He'd call and tell them-

_Tell them what?! My son tried to commit suicide or whatever by draining my liquor?! That'll win me friends and influence people for sure. _

Norman clicked his cell phone on, hearing the message alert. 20 messages already. It wasn't even 12:00.

"Mr. Osborn?" A nurse appeared, carrying some chart. Norman looked up. "Your son is ready to see you." Norman rolled his eyes impatiently, Harry was going to hear about this.

Harry saw his father coming in, dressed in a black suit, his tie neatly pressed. When he saw Harry was alive, he smiled briefly for the nurse. If she expected some teary reunion and hugs to follow, she was disappointed.

Norman dismissed her, and paced the room like a caged animal. "What the HELL were you thinking Harry? When I found you"- Harry looked away, the disapproval unmistakable.

"Dad, I'm sorry"- "Sorry!?! Sorry won't cut it Harry. Why did you do it anyway? Did you know I have a VERY important meeting today?! I've been waiting for this particular meeting for years!"

Harry felt tears in his large, brown eyes. Norman looked at him, expecting an answer. "Well?" Harry refused to cry in front of his father, it'd make him more angry.

"I'm sorry."

Norman, resigning himself to the fact that Harry wouldn't say anymore, paced. "You don't have to stay here, if you need to be in a meeting"- Harry felt his throat tighten.

"I'm glad you understand."

And with that, Norman Osborn exited, the faint sound of his shoes echoing off the floor. Harry closed his eyes, feeling the pain…

**A/N: What did you think?! **


	4. Chapter 4

Norman Osborn rushed into the meeting, slowing only when he reached the double doors. He casually flung them back, stepping confidently into the room.

_They're not ready._

He felt himself slowly relax, but not completely. The chairs closest to his chair at the head, were vacant. He saw Dr. Stromm leading the already waiting members in a lengthy discussion. Norman smiled thinly; maybe a raise was in order if this went through.

"Dr. Osborn, we were just about to begin." Norman shook hands with the officials, plastering a smile on his face, using Osborn charm.

They took there chairs, and resumed. Norman seated at the head, motioning Dr. Stromm to present their scientific findings. Some of the members looked hesitant, they'd been leery of his project for awhile now.

_I'll show them._

He tried to ignore the flush of pride when his toughest critics seemed impressed. Norman concluded the meeting, waiting for complete funding. To his surprise, they wanted time to think about it.

"Time will exhaust this project, if we want to move forward, I need the funding." Norman encouraged, trying to stay relaxed. Right then, right there he felt his life depended on their awnser.

The meeting dispersed while the board discussed his proposition. "How does it look?" "They noticed you weren't here earlier. They doubt your sincerity with a project of this size." Norman looked away.

"Where were you?" Norman turned around, staring at the man. "That is none of your business. Your business is to get the funding"…

Hours and hours ticked by, Harry lying in the vacant room. His pain replaced with numbness from the cuts. He'd tried sleeping, his body unable to relax. He thought about calling MJ or Peter, but is father didn't want anyone to know.

"Mr. Osborn?" It took awhile to realize they were talking to him, usually that title was reserved for his father.

_Dad._

"Yes?" "All your vital signs are normal, if you experience any"- The nurse rattled off possible problems, Harry already ready to leave. He felt the tingling in his spine, and exited the hospital.

Harry climbed the steps to the penthouse, avoiding the picture of his father. The liquor cabinet had been relocated, and the staining of blood was gone. Glass disposed of.

The door to the study was open, usually indicating Norman was home. "Dad?"

Harry didn't really feel like talking to his father, but he wanted assurance he wasn't hated. "Dad?" Harry's head throbbed, still recovering form the hangover.

Norman Osborn looked down from the balcony. His tie was loosened, and he looked depressed.

_Another business deal refused._

"Harry? You're home?" His voice was slightly slurred, and Harry prayed it was due to exhaustion and not drinking. "Yeah. They said I was fine."

Norman nodded, blankly staring. His home, everything he'd given to his son.

_Peter Parker would've appreciated this. Me. He would've never done what Harry did._

Norman ignored the questioning look in Harry's eyes as he slowly descended the staircase. "How was your meeting?" "They delayed us on funding." Norman's tone was sharp, but surprised Harry even asked.

"Harry." Harry knew he'd hear a lecture about responsibility or discipline. He looked at his feet. "Harry." He met his father's eyes, for a brief second- was that concern?

It vanished quickly. "You're 16! I should be able to let you alone by now. Its time you grew up, Harry. Responsibility wouldn't kill you. I can't always unscrew your messes. It's time you stepped up."

Harry had enough, he backed away from his father. "Its not like you're ever here! You never have time to do anything with me! Yet- somehow you ALWAYS have time to lecture me!" Norman Osborn opened his mouth, feeling slapped repeatedly.

Then the words Harry had felt, but never said. "I'll never be good enough, will I Dad? I won't be Peter or one of your colleagues. I'm just"-

Harry felt himself on the verge of tears, and stopped.

Norman felt surprised, Harry had never said anything about his absence before.

_Maybe I don't listen. He should understand! I've given him what none of his friends ever had, he should be grateful!_

"Harry." Harry looked at his father, scared at what he'd say. "Never talk to me like that again." Harry left, brushing past his father on the way upstairs, the staircase long. If Harry could've kept ascending; he would've. He couldn't stand to see his father hurt.


	5. Chapter 5

_I'm so sorry._

The words offered up in the dark were transparent. He'd never hear them, or see the impact of those simple words upon the receiver. Why?

_I'd never speak them, I couldn't._

After all, forgiveness was begging, humbling yourself. And that was something he knew he'd never do. Besides, he didn't deserve any forgiveness. If anything, he should be asking forgiveness after what he said!

_Still- he's-_

Norman Osborn shook his head, refusing to even entertain at the mere thought of a mistake on his part. He'd given him everything, and been more than generous. After all, didn't Harry want to be alone? Didn't all teenagers want space?

_I'm so sorry._

Harry surrendering to the sunlight pouring in through the windows; lay on his back. He felt extremely guilty for what he'd said last night. It was all true, but instead of gaining his father's respect, he'd slapped him in the face. Now, he wished that he'd never gotten up, or recovered. Things would've been better. Simpler.

Resigning himself to the fact he couldn't avoid his father forever, he got up. He heard voices downstairs. Curiously, he looked down from the balcony.

_That's strange._

His father was talking animatedly to someone instead of something. Like the cell phone usually chained to him.

"I hope I'm not burdening you, Mr. Osborn."

"Nonsense. It's always good to talk to you. How's school?"

Harry knew that voice, the same voice that he wished he could possess. To capture his father's interest, to hold his undivided attention. Peter Parker.

_Oh Peter, how nice of you. To remind me what I'll never achieve. What I'll never be. _

Nether less, Harry forced himself downstairs, gripping the banister firmly. He attempted a smile at his father's direction, but Norman kept his back to him. Telling Peter about OsCorp's project.

"Shouldn't you be at work, Dad?" Harry asked, trying to discern if all was forgotten, and forgiven. His father ignored him. Peter noticing, looked at Harry pointedly.

"Hey Harry, stopped by."

"Hey Pete. Why don't we go upstairs"- "Nonsense! Peter just got here, and I want to hear about how the studying is going. You know Peter, you're really advancing your education." Peter smiled, beaming. Harry felt sick, looking at the two.

"Now if only Harry had made the same choice, he would've been maybe able to salvage his grades to a C." Harry looked away, his grades weren't THAT bad. He just wasn't a 'brilliant student' like Peter.

Peter nodded, noticeable of the uncomfortable atmosphere. "Well I try to help Harry study." Norman nodded, "If it weren't for you, he'd flunk!" The words were said lightly, but they still hit with impact.

Harry couldn't take it anymore, the conspiratorial glances, the praise over Peter's grades. Here his geeky best friend had earned his father's approval. It was quite obvious.

"I'm trying Dad." "You're not trying hard enough, Harry. You need to get into a good college, OsCorp's officials won't want a high school drop out as my heir." Harry bit his tongue, the taste of blood fresh in his mouth.

"I'm not dropping out." "With those grades you might have to." Norman ignored the sharpness, as Peter shuffled his feet uncomfortably. Harry was angry and hurt by his father's misplaced affection, and he didn't want another enemy at school.

"I was leaving"-

"No!" Harry and Norman chorused in unison. Harry looked at his father, surprised. Peter chuckled, having lightened the mood somewhat, and surrendered. As Norman left for OsCorp, Peter and Harry sat down.

"So how's the studying?" It came out sharper than intended, but Harry tried to smile. Peter nodded absently, "It's good. I'm studying microbiology, its fascinating really"-

As Peter droned on, Harry couldn't help remembering the look in his father's eyes. Affection; approval, trust, respect. And it'd all been directed at Peter.

_It's all about you Pete._

**A/N: Sorry for the slow update, but I've been busy. I was delighted when my fanfic hero, Nanashii Tigeress reviewed, I can't wait for more Long Weekend! Anyway, hope you're all enjoying it so far, and please review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/n: I sadly abandoned this fic for awhile, but its back! Spiderswing 432 is not letting me get away with neglecting this one… Read and review if you want it to stay back! ;)**

Harry stood in the mirror straightening his tie. He'd finally convinced MJ to go out with him on a date. She had protested and avoided the subject long enough, besides his father was gone- again.

_If only I was what he wanted- a perfect student, an intelligent ambitious science enthusiast. Peter Parker's all of that, he's the perfect boy._

Harry paused in front of the mirror, his eyes clouding over with jealousy.

_Peter Parker is a failure._

No matter how many times he reassured himself, the words always seemed empty. Peter Parker was a success in the eyes of his father…

_She'll do._

The first time he saw Mary Jane at school he knew the price he'd have to pay. He saw the look on Peter's face when he discovered she was dating him.

_Pure jealousy._

It gave Harry a wave of satisfaction to know that someone finally envied him. It was another step closer to meeting his father's expectations, but even MJ didn't satisfy him.

"Harry, it's too much." Harry looked at MJ; she was wearing the only dress she owned from that consignment shop downtown. If Harry had looked closer, he would've noticed her obvious discomfort with the entire situation.

"I'm glad you like it".

The restaurant was exquisite; Harry and Norman often brought friends or business here. MJ had never seen the inside of the place before, and Harry had enticed her with it. Perhaps he was buying her off, but another encounter with a vacant mansion was the last thing Harry wanted for this evening.

MJ had been talking, and Harry briefly smiled, waving the waiter away. He could do this, focus, pay attention. Harry drifted back to the incident at the hospital. His father left for a meeting, a meeting in which he didn't even get the proposal. It was another reminder of his father: a vacant chair, a mere memory.

"Harry? Are you listening?"

Harry faced MJ, forcing a smile. "Do you like it?" MJ bit her lip, tears pooling in her eyes. Harry looked around frantically, praying silently she kept quiet.

"What's wrong?"

MJ shook her head, getting up. Harry rushed after her, calling her name. "MJ!" MJ stopped and sat down on a nearby bench. "What happened? I thought you liked it".

"Its great, you're great, but"- MJ broke off into sobs. "I can't do this anymore, Harry."

Harry stood in the street, confusion written all over his face. "What?"

"I'm so sorry, Harry. I don't love you, I love Peter". MJ sadly smiled up at him, getting up. Harry watched her walk across the street abandoning him.

_Peter Parker- Peter Parker- Peter Parker-Peter Parker_

His name flashed through Harry's mind over and over. Peter stole his father, Peter stole MJ. Some geeky science nerd with coke bottle glasses stole everything. Harry watched her run down the street, never looking back.

_He won't get away with this. He will suffer; he deserves to suffer the pain I suffer._

Harry walked back to the restaurant, paid the bill and headed home…

Harry noticed his father's door swinging, he was out. For once, Harry felt thankful for his absence. Harry pulled apart the cabinet, frantically searching for the liquor. Harry ran upstairs to his father's room. There in the back of the closet was the liquor cabinet.

Harry grabbed the bourbon and savored the welcome sting in the back of his throat, all the way to his stomach. Images flashed before him as he felt the room grow dark and hazy.

_Dad. MJ. Peter. "I won't always be here to unscrew your messes"… "I don't love you, Harry". "Yeah, she's pretty great." "I'm studying microbiology in the summer"… Dad. MJ. Peter. Dad. MJ. Peter. Dad. MJ. Peter. Dad. MJ. Peter._

Names, words, and images flickered as Harry slammed another shot down. Another after another. Harry stumbled around, his vision was blurring. The last thought that manifested in his mind burned.

_At least when I'm dead I won't be a burden to my father…_


	7. Chapter 7

Harry awoke to the stiff burn of the carpet and the pounding headache. Last nights events swirled past him hazily. At least this time he hadn't passed out or anything.

_I could get used to this._

Harry felt around and felt the cold glass of the bottle. Wincing, he forced himself to sit up, and took in his surroundings.

_Damn! _

Harry grabbed the nearby chair and hoisted himself up, his vision momentarily fogging. He was still in his father's room, and his entire liquor collection was on the floor!

Harry frantically grabbed the bottles, shoving them back into the proper places. Harry forced the door shut and leaned against it.

_Hopefully he won't notice some are empty._

Cautiously, Harry exited the bedroom. Harry could hear Bernard downstairs, maybe he hadn't noticed, maybe no one had noticed. After all, Harry didn't remember seeing the study door closed last night.

_Unless he's waiting for me downstairs. _

Harry took a shower and made his way downstairs. Bernard briefly greeted him and left, Harry nervously scanning the room. Nothing. Harry felt the tension lift and reached for the phone. Maybe it wasn't too late to fix things with MJ….

Norman Osborn hadn't slept once, the meeting of the board officials would end and he would hear the verdict. This was it; he had waited his entire life for this. To see his company advance, overwhelm his competitors. To laugh at the skeptics as he took his findings worldwide, scoffing at their-

"Dr. Osborn?"

Norman forced himself back down to reality, hungrily smiled and got up. With each door he passed, Norman dreamed of his success, and what would come from it. The man opened the doors, revealing the suited men waiting. This was it, his moment.

"Gentleman, so wonderful to see you", Norman smiled, taking his rightful place at the head of the table. The men looked at each other while one produced a file. Norman looked up in shock as Dr. Stromm was escorted into the room, taking a place next to Norman.

The suspense was killing him, as he watched their faces.

_Poker faces. What's happening? Why is Stromm here? He never supported my project-_

"Dr. Osborn we appreciate your dedication to this project, and have looked it over".

Norman smiled eagerly, here it was- full funding!

"But Dr. Stromm discussed with us his doubts concerning your research".

Norman glared at Stromm, this couldn't be happening! "You're fired", Norman hissed.

"Your dedication has overruled the safety concerns, Dr. Osborn. The side effects of this project are very high, and we're concerned backing a volatile formula".

Norman fought to keep his composure, this was ridiculous! "The formula has been tested successfully", Norman assured.

The men focused on Stromm, who was wishing he had chosen the seat further from Norman.

"Has the formula been tested successfully on a human?" Norman looked away, "No".

The silence was deafening as the men turned to leave, gathering up their coats and briefcases.

"Wait!"

"Yes, Dr. Osborn?"

"If I get a human to successfully test on this formula, will you grant me the spending?"

The men shifted uneasily, they had been warned about this guy. "Fine, but only if you have a successful trial with a human and no side effects occur". The men turned to leave, Norman smiling excitedly, now all he needed was someone willing. How hard could that be?

Harry listened to the dial tone, and wished MJ hadn't discovered caller id. Harry dialed again, hoping she'd pick up. Success!

"Hey Harry". "Listen, I'm sorry about last night. I really want to make it up to you". Harry what part about 'I don't love you',- "Come on MJ, I care about you. Pete is Pete; he'll let you down, MJ." Harry drummed his fingers against the hard wood.

"I"- "Come on! How could you be attracted to Peter Parker?" Harry knew it was harsh, but this was absurd. Losing a girl to Peter? Not happening. "Harry that's horrible! Peter is sweet and kind".

"And I'm not?" "I don't know what you are, Harry. I really want to believe you, but your father"- "There's nothing wrong with my father, MJ." "See? He obviously despises me, and you love him more than you'll ever love me."

"How can you say that? Forcing me to choose between my father and you? "Unfair, MJ".

Harry heard her sigh and pause. "Let me make it up to you, nothing elaborate unless you want it". "Fine." Harry smiled, yes!

"So I'll pick you up at 8:00?"

**A/n: Read and review please!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/n: Thanks for all the reviews, I really appreciate them. Apparently this fic has been on hiatus TOO long and I lost some reviewers. Anyway, this is dedicated to Valdemar and Spiderswing432 who are loyal reviewers! (You guys rock!) The story continues…**

From the faint light of the streetlamp, Harry watched MJ run downstairs hurriedly. Harry leaned back further against the leather of his Dad's new limo. Harry listened to the sound of MJ's heels against the sidewalk, hearing their faint clacking. Maybe she had just been upset, and using Peter to make him jealous. Harry smiled at the thought, yes, that was it.

_Peter would never date her, he's my best friend. Besides, what does he have that I don't? Certainly not money or- _

Harry opened the door for MJ to climb in besides him. He could sense something was wrong immediately.

"Harry, this isn't a date." Harry smiled, "I know that". MJ bit her lip, peering over her shoulder. Harry looked up at her, confused. "So you won't mind if we bring Peter?"

Norman Osborn usually didn't walk the streets of New York, but desperation had driven him over the edge. A looming deadline was the only coherent thought throughout his mind. He needed a willing subject, someone he could persuade to follow his dreams of science. Sickly enough, the first image that flashed before him was his own son, Harry.

_There's nothing sick about it, the formula is completely safe. Nothing dangerous would occur- other than the usual, hell maybe it would help him!_

Norman shook his head violently, Harry was his son. No matter how confident he was with his calculations, he knew in science there were always exceptions to the rule. Now the only question was who? For once in his life, Norman Osborn was out of ideas.

Fifteen minutes later, a disgruntled Harry sat next to MJ, Peter on the other side. Harry hadn't had any intentions of hanging out with Peter, and witnessing them together only aggravated him more. Harry listened to their lighthearted conversation, MJ giggling as Peter said something wittily stupid.

_Dad was right, she used me. Now Peter is using me with her! Why am I surprised? Everyone eventually leaves me, why should this be any different? Am I really that unlovable? Am I really that easy to hate? _

"Harry?" Harry turned around to see MJ and Peter calling him. The limo had already stopped, and they were at their destination. Harry got out and caught up with them, a third wheel once more….

Norman Osborn made his way back to the lab, flicking the lights back on. The empty halls and vacant chairs reminded him of when he first started out. He had been the complete opposite of Harry, barely surviving on his own, dealing with an abusive Father. The only memories he held of his childhood were the ones he fought to forget.

Harry had been spoiled, loved, and cared for. Norman looked up at the clock, 1:00. Somehow he dreaded returning to his mansion, he'd rather stay here within the universe he created, the universe he feared could crumble if he lacked a willing subject. Norman met his face in the mirrored doors, picking up his formula, he dialed Dr. Stromm. He already had his willing subject staring at him.

_Me. _

"Tonight was fun", MJ smiled holding Peter's hand. "Well, thank Harry". Harry forced a smiled, watching them together was painful. Peter kissed MJ goodnight and bounded up the steps to the shabby house he called home. Harry watched him in disgust.

_That kiss probably made his life; most likely it's the best thing that ever happened to him. Peter Parker, first kiss with my ex. Nice._

Harry turned to get into the limo, MJ running up to him. "Harry I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have"-

Harry fought the urge to retaliate, angry words forming in his mind. "It's fine."

MJ smiled in relief, clutching her arms around herself tightly.

"Tonight"- Harry held up a hand, stopping her.

"Just answer me this, MJ. When we were dating, when did you know you didn't love me?"

MJ shook her head, lost for words. This was the first time she had heard Harry sound so angry, and bitter. For a moment she felt as if she was talking to his Father, Norman.

"I"-

"Was my Father right, MJ? Were you just using me for my money? Well?" Harry knew Peter was listening, maybe even Aunt May, but he didn't care.

"I can't believe you, Harry Osborn."

And with that, MJ ran up to her house and slammed the door, leaving Harry alone.

_What have I done?_

Norman had spent the last sixteen minutes excitedly telling Stromm about his plan. Stromm silently shook his head at Norman, this was going too far.

"Do you realize the side effects?" Norman nodded, "I created the damn thing, Stromm." Dr. Stromm nodded reluctantly, Norman laying down as he pressed the metal into place. Norman briefly winced at the feeling of cold against his flesh.

"Are you sure?" Stromm's hand close to the button, hoping Norman would reconsider. Norman nodded, feeling the chamber close. Stromm pressed the button, watching the chamber fill with formula. Stromm watched the faint outline of Norman carefully. Suddenly, the alarm went off, Norman's body seizing. Stromm hurriedly shut the chamber down, before he noticed the limp body of Norman.

Stromm frantically removed the metal clamps holding him upright, and felt him collapse. Stromm was about to drag his body out when Norman's eyes snapped open. Horrified, at what he had seen, Stromm staggered back. These weren't Norman Osborn's eyes, but the eyes of a madman. He felt the hands gripping his neck, and feeling the glass pierce him, everything turned black.

Norman Osborn smiled crazily, feeling the new found strength radiating through out him. His mind wasn't his own, insanity had taken hold. The last lucid thought echoed throughout his mind, momentarily drowning the sinister laughter.

_What have I done?_


	9. Chapter 9

**A/n: I just finished watching SM1, and noticed my entire timeline was way off. Considering Harry had moved out before the whole Goblin thing with Norman. I think this makes it more interesting though. Thanks to all my reviewers (old and new!) Spiderswing 432, Valdemar, and Arsene Lupin IV (you better continue that story of yours!)- You guys rock my fanfic world! ******

Harry had just gotten home from his adventure with MJ and Peter. Harry glanced up at the clock hanging above the hallway, 2:00. For Harry, this was early. Usually he could avoid his Father's detection and pretend he had been home the entire time. Now, Norman left the time completely up to Harry.

Harry was pacing around the room, the liquor he had drowned himself in still clouding his mind. He was brought back to reality when the light reflected on an empty shot glass on the floor.

_That's weird. Usually Dad never leaves anything on the floor, let alone his crystal shot glasses. _

Harry moved closer and noticed Norman sprawled out on the floor. Harry hurriedly attempted to lift his body off the floor, but found it strangely heavy. Harry shook him awake, praying he wouldn't notice the smell of vodka and gin wafting off Harry.

"Dad?"

Norman felt around feeling only carpet beneath him. What had happened? Where was he? Was that- Harry?

"What are you doing on the floor?"

Norman looked up at Harry, watching his concerned expression warily. Norman struggled piecing the day's previous events together. Norman looked up at Harry, confused. Harry helped him up onto the Italian leather sofa, Norman looking away.

"I don't know."

Harry had never heard those words before; those words didn't belong to a man like Norman Osborn.

"Have you been here all night?"

Norman met Harry's worried eyes, his mind hazy. Something was wrong- no, just out of place. It was as if Norman had just woken up after years and years. He felt powerful underneath the layer of exhaustion.

"I"-

"Should I call someone?" Harry knelt down beside his Father, wildly frantic. Norman shook his head slowly, feeling a strong voice echoing through out his mind.

_No._

"No."

Norman grabbed one of the arms of the sofa. What was happening? He couldn't hear voices in his head, could he? Norman remembered drinking, and something else. What was it?

_Remember? _

"No." Norman looked around for the voice, only connecting with Harry's eyes.

"Dad are you sure? No what?" Harry had never seen his Father like this, so- human.

"I'm fine, Harry. Really."

"Are you sure? Because it wouldn't be a problem, and you don't look so good."

Norman forced a smile, feeling himself tense angrily.

_What the hell? He's only my son! He's only trying to help, so why am I so angry?_

"Dad?"

Norman glared at Harry, this had to stop. Norman Osborn didn't need help from his son! Norman Osborn certainly wasn't sick, and Norman Osborn NEVER heard voices in his head, even after drinking!

Norman stood up, feeling his legs shaking beneath him. "Harry that's enough. Where were you anyway? Out with that girl again? Hmmm?" Harry stepped back, watching his Father advance on him, almost threateningly.

"Dad?"

"Well Harry? Answer me!" Norman slapped Harry hard, his hand connecting with his son's face. Norman watched Harry's eyes fill with tears as he backed away.

"Well?" Norman slapped him again, the sheer force nearly knocking Harry into the glass mirror.

"D-D-Dad? Please stop!"

Norman stepped back, seeing the terror in Harry's eyes for the first time.

_How could I do this? I've never hit him once! I swore I would never hit him. Who am I?_

Norman stepped forward, his arms outstretched. Harry cautiously looked at him, flinching when Norman embraced him. "I'm so sorry Harry. I don't know what came over me." Harry gripped his Father closer; he couldn't remember the last time his Father had done this. "Its okay, Dad. You're just stressed. Maybe you need a little sleep?" Norman broke away, smiling up at Harry.

"What happened? You were out late." Harry refused to meet Norman's steely gaze, taking an unusual interest in Norman's exotic African masks. "I'm fine". Norman shook his head, getting up. "No, you're not. What happened?"

"MJ broke up with me. You were right, about Peter, about her. Everything you told me, you were right." Norman smiled, this was more like it! "She brought Peter along, and"- Harry looked away, his voice catching. Norman felt his newly discovered irritation at Harry's crying.

"Don't be weak, son. You'll find someone else. That kind of girl belongs with Peter Parker". Norman smiled, the fire illuminating his face.

"Besides, I'm always right."

_WE'RE always right…_


	10. Chapter 10

**A/n: I just finished watching Spiderman 2-3. I couldn't stand to watch Harry die (I'm ridiculous, I know!) so I shut it off, lol. Peter is such a jerk in the third, but I love his horrible moves. Anyway, on to the story! Read and review as always to keep me happy and writing. **

Harry couldn't remember the last time his Father had spent the entire night at the Osborn penthouse. The faint sting from Norman's hand reminded Harry of the change in his Dad recently. Why was he on the floor? Why was he suddenly interested in Harry's life? And why did he abandon work last night? Harry shook his head to clear the thoughts, he was worrying or paranoid.

_Still, I've never seen Dad get like that, so- scary. _

Harry avoided the mirror, unable to face his own inquiring eyes. The humiliation stung more than the actual physical pain. For awhile he had been struggling with the decision to make his way downstairs- or not. Harry peered out the window, the rolls still parked.

Harry paused, looking out unto the vast New York skyline. Life wasn't supposed to be this difficult, was it? Norman had always lectured him about the trials of success and power. What was it he always said? Oh yes.

_Power and success don't come easily Harry, they come with a price. _

There was much more to his lecture, but that was the morning Harry had tuned him out. Now, Harry felt fear. Not annoyance or nervousness of facing Norman, but fear.

_Maybe I'm not willing to pay that price, Dad._

Nonsense.

Harry could already picture Norman's harsh words, his pursed lips.

_Don't ever be ashamed of who you are._

Today, staring out at the city, Harry was ashamed…

"Harry!" Norman greeted his son pleasantly, having just hung up the phone. Harry cautiously gauged his Father's mood. Harry picked up the paper, horrified at the title.

_OsCorp Scientist Dr. Mendel Stromm murdered in horrific crime._

"Dad? Did you see this? Don't you work with him?" Harry handed the newspaper over to Norman.

"What?" Norman grabbed the newspaper, unwilling to believe it. Mendel Stromm dead? Not only dead but murdered? Impossible he was just last night- last night. What happened last night?

_You don't remember? Your little accident? Face it Normie, he never supported us anyway._

Norman dropped the newspaper on the carpet, clutching his head. The experiment, Stromm's warning, the deadline, his refusal. Norman found himself wishing he'd wake up any moment.

_Its better this way, he was useless anyway. You wanted to fire him, remember?_

"Who are you!?"

"Dad?"

_Your greatest creation to date. _

Images flashed in Norman's head, the murder, the fear in his eyes as he single handedly choked him. The formula, the testing facility, the glider and flight suit.

A slight smile formed as Norman turned around to face Harry. "Nothing son, nothing at all." Harry nodded, convinced. His Dad was fine; he had drunk too much, that's all.

Harry turned to leave, Norman stopping him.

"How about you and I spend some quality time together? We haven't talked in ages."

Harry was completely shocked at his Father's proposal. Norman and Harry hadn't 'hung out' since the fourth grade. Even then, it was only because the school ordered Norman to pick him up immediately. Harry grimaced at the memory, and that slow car ride home.

"That'd be great, Dad."

Norman smiled, yet there was no warmth.

"Where do you want to go?"

Norman watched Harry dejectedly look away as he answered another phone call. Another reporter interested in the details of the murder. Did he have any comments? Would there be a funeral? What was he doing when he heard the terrible news? Norman exhausted all of his acting skills and expressed his extreme remorse, promising a fund for the dead scientist, lest he be forgotten. Inside Norman's mind, a plan formed.

Harry stared at the shattered glass of the OsCorp testing facility where Dr. Stromm had apparently been murdered. Broken glass and test tubes lay scattered on the floor. Harry hadn't wanted to see this, to be forced to stay in the very place that captured Norman's undivided attention for years.

Harry watched him closing the phone, smiling. How could he smile after the news he had gotten today? How could he even look upon the very site where his top scientist was murdered? Harry was completely stumped for answers at his Father's odd behaviors. As Norman strode towards Harry, Harry was passionately wishing he had never agreed to this.

"So Dad, did you know him well?"

Norman was looking out the window of the rolls, lost in thought.

"Who?"

"Mendel Stromm, your scientist," Harry prompted.

Norman scowled angrily, "That's none of your concern".

"I'm sorry, but if you wanted to talk about it"-

"Harry, Harry, Harry. I work in business and science, I employ hundreds. Stromm was just one in a million. There are plenty willing to take his place, I assure you. I barely knew him, I didn't want to. At OsCorp I make important decisions, people like Stromm only complicate it more."

Harry nodded, fighting the urge to recoil at the coldness in Norman's voice. He respected his Father in every way, but he found himself questioning if he was right or not. He could never do that, maintain that level of detachment. Maybe that's why Norman was successful and Harry was not. Harry stared out the window, wishing life were easier…


	11. Chapter 11

**A/n: Still lovin all my reviewers! Read and review! The fic continues…**

Harry hadn't spoken to Peter since their last night out with MJ. He stared at the phone dejectedly, wondering why he wouldn't call him. Peter and MJ had been his only friends ever since he'd started attending public school. Now, Harry questioned if he even had any friends anymore. Peter undoubtedly would stand by MJ, and who knew what stories she'd been telling. Harry slumped back into the chair, confused.

MJ and Peter were his best friends, he'd always counted on them, and them on him. Not once had he ever imagined anything could split them up. Harry realized his intentions for dating MJ hadn't been ideal, but he had loved her. Peter had waltzed along and stolen her right from him.

_No, that's not correct. Peter always loved her- right? He told me that in the science lab. Yet- if he loved her so much why did he wait for me to start dating her before he made a move? Was he scared? If fear kept him away from MJ, then he couldn't love her THAT much, right? _

Harry shook his head, whose thoughts were these? He loved them equally, and if being together made them happy, so be it.

_I have no resentment towards Peter or MJ, right?_

Harry frowned dejectedly, if only he could make himself believe that…

Norman Osborn finished his report to the board, unable to contain his growing excitement. Stocks were up, projects were successful, and finances had peaked over the last couple of days. In some ways, Norman considered Stromm's death as some sort of good luck charm for OsCorp.

"Great news, Norman. That's why we're selling the company. Quest aerodynamics is rebuilding- the deal goes public at the unity festival". He smiled, sipping his tea calmly.

"You're out, Norman".

Norman stepped back from the table, horrified.

_No! No! No! This can't be happening, this is my company! How could they do this?_

Norman fought to keep his composure, bracing himself against the desk.

"Why wasn't I notified?"

"The last thing Quest wanted was a battle with entrenched management. The deals off if you come with it."

Norman turned to Mr. Fargas pleadingly. "Please Max, don't do this to me".

"The board's unanimous in our decision, Norman."

The man at the end of the table smiled, repeating those familiar words Norman feared.

"You're out."

Norman glared around the table at the board disgustedly.

"How could you do this to me? I started this company! Do you have any idea how much I've sacrificed?!?" Norman demanded, yelling. His composure had slipped; the woman across from him flinched at his sudden outburst. The board members refused to meet his eyes, remaining infuriatingly calm.

"You're out, Norman".

"Am I?" A slight smiled forming on Norman's face.

_We'll see about that!_

Harry waited for Peter in the mansion. His Father had come home earlier, quickly rushing out again claiming he had to prepare for OsCorp's World Unity festival or something. Harry heard the elevator open, Peter standing in it.

"Hey Pete".

Peter smiled and emerged, walking hesitantly towards Harry.

"Look Harry, I would've never gone with you and MJ if I'd known it would've bothered you so much".

Harry turned away, he hadn't intended for Peter's visit to lapse into a drawn out monologue about MJ and MJ's true love for Peter since first grade.

_Who finds a soul mate in grade school anyway?_

"Look, Pete, I'd rather not talk about it, 'kay?"

Peter shrugged, looking out the window. "I never intended to hurt you, Harry. Its just- she's so lovely".

Harry's eyes widened, was Peter ACTUALLY tearing up thinking about MJ?

"Careful Pete, she's not what she seems. She used me, she'll use you." Harry's Father had warned him, why not warn Peter? After all, they were best friends.

Peter stared at Harry in complete shock. "How can you say that?"

Harry approached Peter linking his arm around his shoulder. "Look Pete, I just think I should warn you before you get hurt". Peter angrily removed Harry's arm.

"You're just bitter because she chose me!"

_Yes._

"No! I'm just looking out for your"-

Peter thinly smiled. "I can look out for myself, Harry."

Harry looked up at Peter, meeting cold, flat blue eyes. When had his friend become so, so- cold?

"I know that, but"-

"But what Harry? Not everyone is incapable of being loved!"

Harry opened his mouth, lost for words. Peter stormed back into the elevator, punching the down button.

_Why is everyone changing? And why am I always the one left behind? Is Peter right? Am I really incapable of being loved? _

Harry stared at the elevator doors; silently praying Peter would change his mind and come back. For what seemed like eternity, Harry stared at those doors where everyone left, never to return. Harry stared until loneliness overwhelmed him, every sobering reality pulling at him.

_Please Peter, I need you right now. Don't give up on me. Please?_

Harry's thoughts mingled, never to be spoken. Everyone had given up on him already, so why shouldn't he give up on himself? Harry unsheathed one of Norman's decorative ceremonial daggers, fingering the cold sharp steel…


	12. Chapter 12

**A/n: Sorry I've been so slow in updating, but don't worry- I haven't left it! I'm thinking of wrapping it up soon, but probably adding four more chapters to it. Do any of you guys have an opinion of how long you want this fic? Anyway, keep reading and reviewing- I love it! ******

**Warning: Suicide subject matter**

Harry held the knife for what seemed like an eternity; gently stroking the cold, hard steel back and forth. Harry fingered the tip of the blade, lost in deep, dark thoughts. The thought of suicide seemed so tempting, and so easy. One cut, and he'd completely be lost forever. No one else would ever be burdened by Harry's presence. Harry brought the knife to his wrist, gently pressing down against his skin.

_I can do this; I can end my pain and everyone else's. _

Harry heard the knife clatter to the hard floor, his hand releasing the grip. Harry stared at the knife lying in the floor, wishing he was stronger. The loneliness was overwhelming, each piece twisted and mangled. Harry buried his head in his hands, his body convulsing with held back sobs.

_Dad was right, I'm weak. _

Harry's vision blurred; briefly making out the faint lines of his Father's portrait. Harsh and cruel, the painting stared down at Harry, as if confirming every thought. Harry could picture it now, "You're weak, pathetic." Norman's eyes would stare down his son's, intimidating him.

"You'll always be weak."

Harry buried his head once again behind his hands, blocking out the cold disapproving eyes emanating from the portrait. Suicide seemed like such an easy out, but Harry couldn't pick the knife off the floor. Cold, hard, sharp steel reflected off the floor taunting Harry of his weakness. Harry collapsed from exhaustion, the knife motionless. Harry kicked it away, the sound piercing the silence…

Norman felt himself collapsing, and leaned against the doors for support. Norman had encountered Spiderman at the OsCorp World Unity Festival, and ultimately been defeated. Anger clouded his mind as the Goblin wound himself into Norman's thoughts. He had taken out the board members, but Spiderman had ruined his victory.

Norman rushed up to the elevator, his entire body weakened by his fight with Spiderman. Norman felt himself sweat, and his mind lapse into momentary unconsciousness, the Goblin taking control. Norman could feel his mind rebelling against his own will, every thought focused on Spiderman.

_He will die._

Norman and the Goblin merged, the two personalities resurfacing. Norman hated to lose, and the Goblin had twisted that competitiveness into raw cruelty. Norman smiled as the Goblin joined the two thoughts together.

_We've murdered before, why should Spiderman be our exception?_

The voice echoing off the walls of Norman's consciousness reasoning ways of disposing of his foe. Norman heard the ding as the elevator doors opened unto his mansion. Taking a step out, he smiled.

_Spiderman's behavior will not be tolerated._

Harry watched his Father striding out of the elevator, purposeful and determined. Harry watched his face darken after taking in the sight of Harry. Harry moved closer, hoping to maybe make amends to all the lost time between them.

"How was the festival?" Harry kept the tone light and brief, but inside he felt some strange feeling of fear.

_This is my Dad- why would I fear him?_

Norman ignored Harry momentarily, checking his cell for new messages. Snapping the phone shut, he faced Harry's inquisitive eyes.

"It was fine. Some of the board members"-

Norman's darker side, the Goblin, immediately reacted.

"Had an accident".

Harry nodded, faking understanding. As long as Norman was talking, he wasn't scolding Harry.

"Everything is fine now, though".

Harry forced a smile, watching Norman pace around the foot of the staircase. Norman watched his son intently, observing the nervousness coming from Harry.

"Hey, uh- Dad?"

"Yes?"

Harry paused, trying to collect his thoughts. "I was thinking maybe we could spend thanksgiving at Peter's."

Norman met Harry's gaze. "I see. And will your girlfriend be there?"

Harry looked down at the floor, blocking out MJ from his mind.

"Actually, she's dating Peter now, I tried to get back together with her, but she wasn't interested. She insists she's found her soul mate in Peter, they'll probably get married some day".

"Parker?"

Harry miserably nodded. "Then again, I don't think Peter really wants to see me either." Norman gauged Harry's tone curiously.

"Why not?"

Harry avoided his Dad's probing gaze. "He came over, I warned him about MJ, and he got defensive and angry". Harry's voice caught, fighting the tightness in his throat and the feeling of wanting to cry. Norman hated crying.

Norman paused; taking in the boy's hurt expression. Harry was always needy, always craving attention and affection.

"I'm sorry; I haven't always been there for you, have I?"

Norman closed the gap between Harry and him. Harry looked surprised, and hopeful. This was unexpected, usually Norman just told him to get over it and move on. But now, the sincerity overwhelmed Harry. For once it was just the two of them, father and son.

"I understand, you're an important man".

Norman shook his head, the Goblin contained in the back of his mind. For now, he only felt regret over Harry; he had never been there, always staying up late building his empire.

_What use is an empire without an heir?_

Norman took a step closer to Harry, anticipating Harry's tensing. Harry was nervous around him, his eyes constantly inspecting the floor, meeting anywhere but Norman's own eyes. It was as if Harry was afraid he'd find some flaw to exploit and damage him.

_Harry._

For once, Norman saw his son as he was. Scared, lonely, beautiful, Harry desired to please Norman.

_I never made time. _

Admitting to failure haunted Norman, lost in the shadows of the mansion; Norman realized how Harry must feel every day.

_All alone._

"I can make it up to you," Norman heard himself promise. "I'm going to rectify certain inequities", Norman heard himself reassure Harry. The image of Spiderman's corpse flashed across his mind, the Goblin mingling with Norman's thoughts once more.

Norman finally approached Harry, and tentatively drew him in for a hug. Harry stiffened, and then relaxed, holding unto Norman tightly, tears falling silently.

_If this is a dream, I never want to wake up. _

Harry felt his Father pull him closer to his chest, Harry leaning against his Father's shadowed frame for support. Harry closed his eyes, envisioning what he had almost done. He could never leave his Father, he needed him.

"Everything will be fine from now on", the Goblin promised.


End file.
